Death came for me in a glass. I can't remember what it was a glass of exactly. Probably
cheap gin or whisky. Some spirit or other at any rate because only spirits would be strong
enough to drown the taste of the chemicals I had added from my medicine cabinet. I had no
idea what they were. Oh, I'm sure I could have worked them out individually from the labels,
but in that great lethal cocktail of a hundred and one molecules I could not. Chemistry was Sarah's speciality. And she had left me days ago. So I drank.
I didn't feel any pain. In fact, I didn't feel anything at all. I remember looking at the
clock in annoyance, wondering how long it was going to take. And when I looked back, Death was sitting right next to me. A tall, thin young woman dressed in black with long black hair emphasising her snow?white skin and her deep dark eyes. She looked like something out of a comic book but her mouth smiled in a way that reminded me of childhood homecomings.
"So you're Death." I said.
She nodded.
"I never expected Death to be female."
She laughed at this.
"Well I am. I am Lady Death. Ce?ci moi, La Femme Morte."
I thought this one over. "That doesn't work." I said "La Femme Morte means 'The Dead Lady', not Lady Death."
She shrugged apologetically. "I'm not perfect," she said.
I think it was this, this admission of fallibility, that made me fall head over heels in love with her.
"Is it time for me to go with you?" I asked.
Again she shrugged. "You're the one that just swallowed a chemical compound so
complicated that they won't be able to give it its proper Latin name on the autopsy report.
You tell me."
I smiled, a rather jagged smile. "I guess this was a pretty dumb thing to do," I whispered. Already things were growing dim around me but I struggled to stay awake, just for a few more moments in the presence of this beautiful vision that was with me.
"Oh, I've seen people do dumber things for love." She got up and began to walk around the room. "Usually they involve killing the other person, or maybe both dying together. By those standards your reaction was pretty sane. Nice place you've got."
"Thanks." I forced myself to focus on her. She was becoming blurry but whether that
was her or me I'm not sure. "But even so, killing myself just because my lover walks out on
me - that's got to rate pretty high on the general stupidity meter."
She nodded. "Oh it does, believe me it does." She stopped next to me and I felt her
arm go around my shoulders and saw her crouch down. "But it's sweet." Her breath was
strangely warm against my face as she spoke. "Sweet but dumb. I think that's what drew me to you in the first place." She smiled and caressed my cheek. I was amazed.
"So Death is a dyke too?"
"Sexuality doesn't mean much when you get to be as old as me." Her fingers felt so
gentle as they stroked my face. "I'm just drawn to those who like to make grandiose gestures
and sacrifices on the altar of love. I admire that. Although I must admit, women do it a whole
lot better than men. Not as often, but better."
She grasped my face gently but firmly.
"Hold still." she whispered and then put her lips to mine. I closed my eyes and started
to sink as she kissed me, her warm tongue gently invading my mouth. I tried to respond with
mine but was too weak to move so I just let hers explore. I've always been rather submissive.
Then suddenly I felt the air-pressure change in my mouth. I started to gag, to spasm. I
was going to throw up, I just knew it! I tried to separate myself from her in time but she held
me in place as I felt the noxious cocktail I'd just swallowed burn its way back up from my
stomach. I couldn't believe what was happening but then I realised - she was sucking it back
up! She was sucking the poison out and saving me! Saving my life! The bitch!
I tried to struggle but I was still too weak and her grip was too strong. The cocktail passed back into my mouth and I shuddered at the chemical tang of alcohol and prescription drugs. It passed from my mouth into hers and I swear she gulped it down like it was honey mixed with nectar. Her mouth left mine and she backed away, her breathing slow and shallow, her eyes fixed on mine.
"Not yet," she whispered before turning right round and walking straight through my front door. I passed out.
When I came to, I was in an ambulance heading for the hospital downtown. I was furious. I tried to tell the paramedic that it was all a terrible mistake; that I had wanted to die, to be with that gorgeous vision of Death whom I now knew I loved so completely. But he just smiled kindly at me and patted my hand. Probably thought I was raving as a result of the cocktail.
They got me into the hospital in
double-quick time. I protested. I tried to explain their
mistake but nobody would listen. I was forced into a bed then watched as an anxious young
doctor appeared whom they gathered around, whispering something about stomach pumps
and miracles. I passed out again.
The next time I came round I felt weak but physically alright. Mentally I was in the
depths of depression. A group of orderlies and nurses were gathered around me, led by the
young doctor I saw earlier. He smiled with relief when he saw my eyes open.
"You had a close call there, Ms. Jones." His voice oozed with genuine concern. I could have punched him. "A few days in here and you'll be fit to go back to your apartment and start living again." He frowned. "You do have medical insurance, don't you?"
I tried to tell him to fuck the medical insurance and let me die but all I could manage
was a groan. He took this for a 'yes'.
"Our team of nurses will be looking after you until you are well enough to leave." He
began to make introductions. "This is Nurse Glover, Nurse Davies..." My attention wandered
as he babbled. What was I to do? My love had gone forever ? twice in one day! Despondently
I turned my head - and there she was, standing at the far end of the row of nurses, dressed in
their uniform!
"..and finally Nurse Mortis, a recent transfer from uptown. Well, I'll leave you in their
tender care. I've got rounds to do. I'll come by tomorrow to check how you are doing."
Quietly they dispersed, except for her. She just looked at me for a while. Then she
went and got herself a chair.
"We meet again." Her voice had a wonderful mixture of humour, superiority and
sadness in it. I stared at her.
"You're not Death." I whispered.
"Not for you, no. But I've been Death for enough people to think the title suits me. I
mean I certainly look the part."
"Who are you? What are you?"
"Your kind has many words for my kind and there are many variations within our
ranks. I am but one. What does it matter?"
"It matters because I love you."
"You love me do you?" She leaned over me, a wicked smile playing about her lips. I
nodded weakly.
"I love you. I want to be with you forever in your warm embrace. Please, finish what I
started. Be Death for me."
Her hand lightly stroked my chest and I felt myself melt.
"You want me to be Death?" she reiterated, her hand travelling down my body, "Why?"
"So I can be yours forever."
She chuckled. "Forever together in death...hmm." She was tickling my thighs now and
I was starting to get hot, despite my weakness. "But surely life is more preferable than death."
Her hand reached under my panty elastic. "For the living can feel things, like this." A long digit slipped between my thighs. I moaned suddenly. "And it must be terrible to be dead and not to be loved or held or explored, except by the truly lost and damned." Her gentle examples sent waves of pleasure straight through me. "On the other hand..." I was barely paying attention now, she was sending me closer and closer to the edge of paradise and I wanted to go beyond. "On the other hand...Yes. I think I will be Death for you."
Suddenly she moved and I was encased in suffocating blackness. It hurt, there was
pressure on my face, and all was getting woozy. I struggled and kicked out but felt her other
hand grasp my leg like it was a straw and pin me down. I sobbed and bit into the pillow that
covered me. She was going to kill me, I was going to die on the brink of paradise, it's not fair
not fair not...A scream tore from my throat which would have rung round the corridor if it
hadn't been for the pillow. As it was it was still pretty audible and I heard footsteps racing
towards me. There was the sounds of struggle and then I was free. I sat up, gasping and
choking for air, gulping it down in great lungfulls until my vision cleared and I could look
around.
Two orderlies stood before me, holding on to her for grim life. Another nurse was
nearby, speaking soothing words.
"It's ok honey, you're safe now." To the orderlies: "Get that psycho bitch out of here!"
The orderlies tried to comply. But she was too strong, struggling and snarling, and suddenly she was loose. She pointed at her two ex-captors and then at the nurse. They froze like statues. She spoke.
"Leave now! And when you awake, you will remember nothing of this. Nothing!" Her
voice rang with power and I felt my ears throb. My rescuers turned and shuffled away like the
walking dead. Then she turned backed to me and leant in close again. Her voice held none of
the humour or sadness of earlier, just contempt.
"If you want to be with me, just ask me on a date. No need to die for me. I'm not
worth it!" She turned away and left me to my own thoughts.
So the next day I asked her and she said Yes. It was a strange relationship. For the
three days I was recovering we were as close as anything. We talked, laughed, and exchanged
secret kisses and other treats whilst no one was watching. When I asked her to move in with
me, she said yes and I felt as giddy as a schoolgirl. But when we moved back to my apartment, something changed. She became quieter and more distant. We talked less. We were rarely in at the same times any more and the sex grew less and less. Eventually we moved into separate beds. And I didn't mind. I had stopped seeing her as an object of love and adoration but simply as a good friend. Then as just a friend. It was the most beautiful dissolution I have ever experienced.
Then one day she left. Actually, "vanished" would be a more appropriate term. I came
home from work to discover she had gone. Completely. No trace of her was left. It was as if
she had never existed.. Except for a note stuck to the wall. I took it down and read it.
Those who love life never love Death for long.
Have a wonderful life.
La Femme Morte
I smiled when I finished. Then I threw it in the trash and made myself a cup of coffee.
Back to the Original Fiction
Back to the Books of Fiction
Back to the Library